Tuesday, April 4, 2017

Ironing the Wrinkles

The ironies of time are not
lost on me. In fact, I seem
to be confronted with them
more often than seems…

Universal time is not without
its deranged pleasures with
respect to karma, dharma,
and good old fashioned

It is not justice however,
there is no justice in the ironies
of fate. It is, as they say so wisely
at times, merely, “It is what it is,”
which only provides cold comfort.

At first I was angry when I heard,
then I was annoyed, then I saw the
stone hearted practical joke meted out
through the veil of the universes’ sense
of order through chaos and felt amused.

Chaos that at one time was avoidable.
A practical joke that would have failed.
A better place than just, it is what it is, simply because
it is was there.  The cosmic alignment could have
changed course and landed ironically on someone
else’s heartbreak.

Yet I don’t wish for it to change,
I don’t want the universe to correct anything,
I don’t want any vengeance or feel the pangs of
vendetta tugging at me. It’s only a curious admiration
for the murky irony dealt someone that thought better.

A strange sadness fills me when I think about their
unfortunate spate of luck. There is no vindication.
There’s no enjoyment, merely a muddled sense of
missing something. Without knowing what that
missing piece is, but knowing you’re not better than me.

The universe and its ironies will catch up
to me too one day. I’m sure I’ll be slapped,
kicked and tickled by the hands of fate as it makes
my chaos orderly through whatever means it
deems necessary. Who’ll be laughing then? 

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